


Pocket Full of Posies

by legendtripper



Category: Detroit Evolution (2020), Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Angst with an Ambiguous Ending, Forgive Me, I saw Michelle's tweet and I had to, I'm so sorry, M/M, Maybe I'll write a sequel, Octopunk Media's Detroit: Evolution Fan Film, Someday, anyway, let's take this emotion train to the end of the line, this is literally just sadness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:48:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23946436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legendtripper/pseuds/legendtripper
Summary: "The phrase “now or never” suddenly has a much clearer meaning than it ever has before. Nines used to think it was so silly. But, then again, he never knew how quickly all this could disappear. Staring down the barrel of a gun really did snap the world into perspective.It’s a pity his dying words are wasted on something so selfish."Based onthis tweet.
Relationships: Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Comments: 8
Kudos: 53





	Pocket Full of Posies

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sure most of you saw Michelle's tweet, and, well, I just had to put it in story form.
> 
> For the proper mood, crank "The Dismemberment Song" by Blue Kid. I think it suits Ada well for this story.

It’s almost like a kaleidoscope, really.

The way the reds and blues of the Detroit Police Department’s patrol vehicle’s emergency lights dance across the chipped and graffitied brick of this alleyway. The neons of the spray paint, the harsh fluorescence of a nearby streetlamp; all of it flashing and glowing and painfully bright. Nines would shy away from it if he could, but his limbs are infuriatingly uncooperative. He’s almost paralyzed, though how that’s possible, he has no time nor care to figure out.

A worrying number of warning symbols flash in the corners of his vision, little supernovas of code invisible to everyone else.

 _It’s almost beautiful_ , Nines supposes, though his programming is still uncertain about the strict definition of _beauty_. One thing Kamski never accounted for.

But none of that will matter.

Because Nines is dying. Well, he thinks he is. It had all happened so fast. One minute, everything was functioning as it should. The next…

It was _Ada_ , of all people. She’d played him—played _all_ of them—for a fool. A thousand half-formed regrets and pleas for forgiveness shuffle themselves around in Nines’s mind, and he pushes them all aside. Now is not the time for remorse.

 _He needs to find Gavin_. _He needs to_ know.

But he isn’t here. Nines is...well…

Alone. In an alleyway not _three_ blocks from his friends.

 _I’m drowning in an inch of purely metaphorical water_ , he muses bitterly, before that thought drifts into oblivion, drowned out by the vibrant red of the data corruption error message.

 _Where is_...

“Gavin…” he croaks, the words barely distinguishable among the cacophony of piercing whines that accompany electrical failure. The way his voice crackles, a high, keening scratch like a broken record (Gavin had a vintage player in his house, a beloved yet impractical thrift store find. He cherished it with everything he had.), is just one more insult atop his extensive injuries. He’d say he was choking, if it was even possible for an android to do so.

As it stands, his voice box is _decimated_. That much he knows.

 _Footsteps_.

There’s someone close by, maybe someone that can save him, if he can even _be_ saved at this point. He unconsciously leans in toward the noise, attempting to get a better look at the newcomer, to call for help, perhaps, or just to make his presence known.

He thinks it might be Gavin. That would be nice. But it’s getting hard to tell one thing from another. The lights are blinding, and Nines is pretty sure his optical units are mere moments away from total failure. (He can barely bring himself to wonder how Gavin got there so fast. Burns Alley is too far…)

The stranger almost sounds like he’s underwater, voice garbled and distorted. Nines is only vaguely aware of the palms on his cheeks, the way those hands flit about his face in a thousand tiny fractals, the tired, bloodshot eyes glittering in the lamplight, staring intently into his own.

Gavin—it has to be Gavin, who else would care this much about one more android in way over his head—is saying something. His mouth is moving, but beneath all the buzzing it’s impossible to tell if the words are meaningful.

“Ada…” Nines tries again, hoping to convey the identity of his attacker in a single word.

It’s not enough. Because of _course_ it isn’t. And really, what would even be the point? Ada’s long gone by now, and Nines is _dying_ , and Gavin is still here and he needs to _know_ before it all slips away.

“Gavin…”

This catches Gavin’s attention. The frantic pawing at Nines’s torso, a desperate search for a phantom wound, stops abruptly. Nines does his best to meet Gavin’s eyes, nearly invisible through the error messages.

 _This is it_. The phrase “now or never” suddenly has a much clearer meaning than it ever has before. Nines used to think it was so silly. But, then again, he never knew how quickly all _this_ could disappear. Staring down the barrel of a gun really did snap the world into perspective.

It’s a pity his dying words are wasted on something so selfish.

“I lo—” He swallows down the pain he thinks he would be feeling. If he were human. “I l— you.”

Surely. Surely he _must_ know, now. After all this.

Right?

The piercing wails of the sirens are the last thing Nines hears before his audio processors go offline. Next to fail are his ocular components, and Gavin’s face fades to darkness.

Gavin’s gentle touch is surprising. Nines never thought he’d see the day Gavin willingly held another person this tenderly, especially one he hated as much as he did. And, as it turns out, he hadn’t. Nines can’t _see_ a damn thing.

 _I love you_ , he says. Or maybe he doesn’t. It’s getting hard to think.

Gavin’s arm around his shoulders is nice.

He should do that more often.

 _Blackout_.

Warmth.

The first thing Nines can feel is warmth, and he’s quite honestly surprised.

He had always assumed dying would be cold. Nothingness.

An endless void one could dip into like a serene tidal pool and sink to the bottom, never to return.

Not the pleasant sensation of sun on his face, the rustle of the fabric of his sleeves, the familiar scent of four o’clocks in a state of perpetual youth, trapped in the eternal November of his mind.

Peace. Quietude.

So he opens his eyes, if only to ascertain exactly what is going on.

It’s his garden.

Nines closes his eyes, then reopens them. His garden does not disappear.

So it’s real.

Is he dead? Is this android heaven? Connor had made a joke about it one time, having died an indeterminate number of times before the revolution, but Nines had assumed he was being facetious. Now, though…

Nines takes a deep breath he doesn’t need. It may only be a convincing placebo, but mimicking human calming rituals really does help ground him. Perhaps it makes him feel more…alive.

In any case, Nines appears to be in his own mindscape. It seems unlikely he survived Ada’s attack; he was only seconds away from an irrevocable software corruption, and the D.P.D. definitively did not possess the kind of technology needed to repair him, even if they _were_ able to get to him in time.

But that doesn’t explain why he’s _here_. Still _thinking_ and _processing_.

Most decidedly _alive._

Though, now that he regards his garden with a more discerning eye, something does feel _off_. The water in the ponds is stagnant, choked with dark green algae, the likes of which Nines has never seen before. His beloved tulips, tended to laboriously whenever he can spare the time, are wilted, browning petals drifting lazily to the ground, each one that drops to the ground a proclamation of sorts.

 _You are dying_. _You are dying. You are dying_.

The surface of the pond is glassy and still, and Nines is suddenly aware of how deathly silent it is.

The idea is there before he’s even consciously aware of it. Though that could be debated, he supposes. His mindscape is, in its own way, a consciousness. So if the version of himself he projects in his processor has a thought, is it really _conscious_? Nines makes a note to ask Gavin when he wakes up. _If_ he wakes up.

Speaking of Gavin…

He should’ve been here by now. Oftentimes, the Gavin Nines keeps tucked away in his mind appears within moments of Nines’s arrival to the garden. This time, the detective is conspicuously absent, and Nines aches for his presence.

There’s a gazebo a little further down the path. A lone figure, partially obscured behind a row of hydrangeas, paces languidly within its interior.

“Gavin?” Nines hazards calling his name. He figures any danger to his software is worth locating his partner.

Except…

“Hello,” a voice says, feminine and flat, and Nines comes to an abrupt standstill.

 _Ada_.

She emerges from the shadows all at once, hands folded neatly at her abdomen. Her entire demeanor is clinical, nothing at all like the woman he met at Jericho. The tone shift is truly frightening. Nines wishes he could run, but the path behind him flickers ominously. The sky is darker than it was before.

So this is what dying feels like.

“What are you doing here?” Nines snaps.

Ada does not answer, simply regards him with a cool stare. Nines gets the distinct impression she’s dissecting him with his mind, picking apart his mechanisms piece by piece, holding up the parts under a microscope. He’s being stripped bare.

“Get out of my head.”

“I’m afraid that’s quite impossible,” Ada says, taking a small step closer. “You can no more get rid of me than I could choose to leave you.” Nines is sure his LED is pulsing red, but Ada does not seem to care. She wrinkles her nose slightly. “You should know I would prefer to be anywhere else right now.”

“I said get _out_.”

“Weren’t you listening? I can’t.”

She turns to face the wisteria tree that dominates the garden and reaches a slender hand out to one of the low-hanging branches, turning the purple blooms over in her fingers in much the same way a scientist examines a petri dish; equal parts morbidly fascinated and apathetically cataloguing.

Entirely disgusted.

She snaps the branch off, crushing the petals between her thumb and forefinger and letting them drift to the ground.

Her LED remains a steady, icy blue.

Nines swallows down a number of retorts. He knows Ada has the power here and it _infuriates_ him. It’s his own fault, anyway. Without his oversight, he wouldn’t be in this situation.

“How...how are you…”

“Inside your processor?” Ada finishes for him, approaching the gazebo once more. “A part of my operating system must have copied over when we interfaced.”

“That wasn’t an interface!”

“Close enough, wasn’t it?” That shuts Nines up. “Besides, no matter what you call it, I'm here and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“Screw you.”

Ada casts a withering look over her shoulder.

“You’ve been spending too much time with the humans. That deplorable excuse for a detective is tainting you.”

“ _You don’t get to talk about Gavin_ ,” Nines snarls, approaching the gazebo with every intention of ripping Ada limb from limb. A sudden burst of red flares up, flooding his vision and forcibly repelling him from his intended target. Startled, all Nines can do is hold a hand over his face and wait for the wall of code to subside.

Ada cocks her head to the side.

“Fascinating,” she marvels, nodding thoughtfully. Her eyes narrow. “You can’t hurt me in here.”

She delicately palms a newly budding rose.

“You can’t stop this,” she says, indicating the encroaching darkness with an absent wave. “And neither can I.” A wicked grin spreads across her face.

“But I can make it _hell_ for you.”

And with that, she crushes the rose, letting the petals fall to her feet.

Nines stares, slack jawed. He’s not sure what exactly Ada has planned, but he’s certain he won’t like it.

“Ada, don’t!” he cries, stretching out a hand as far as he can make it, considering Ada’s virtual forcefield. “You don’t have to do this!”

“Oh, but I do. You’ve certainly complicated things for me, RK900, the least I can do is pay back the favor.”

“My _name_ is _Nines_!”

Ada blinks. She actually looks taken aback for a moment, but then she laughs, sharp and callous, and any semblance of humanity Nines thought he could see in her disappears in an instant.

“How quaint!” she exclaims. “You’ve taken a human-given name. I never would’ve thought CyberLife’s most advanced model would stoop so low, yet—” she raises an eyebrow at the rapidly darkening surroundings, “—here we are.”

Nines is fuming, his LED rapidly flickering crimson.

“Give me my mind back.”

“Sorry, _Nines_ , no can do,” Ada says loftily, running her hand over the painted wood of the gazebo. It disintegrates into loose pixels at her touch. “And even if I could, are you sure you’d even _want_ me to? You’d just...fade into nothing. Lost, and abandoned by your so-called _friends_. Left behind by those you thought loved you.” She chuckles smugly. “What a hell of a way to die.”

Nines can’t help it. He screams.

“Gavin! Gavin, where _are_ you?” He cups his hands around his mouth. “ _Gavin_!”

Ada rolls her eyes. “Just what do you hope to accomplish with all that noise? He can’t hear you, RK900. He isn’t coming.”

“He should _be here_ ,” Nines growls. “He wouldn’t have just _left_ me.”

“What do you—”

Ada’s query is cut off by a faint flicker in the air behind her. An electronic buzz fills the garden, the high frequency piercing and generally horrible. But, when it clears, there’s Gavin. Standing, casual as always, in the center of the gazebo.

Nines lets out a heavy sigh. He’s still here.

But if he’s here…

There’s something wrong with him, and it’s not just the fear in his eyes when he notices Ada. He’s darker, harsher.

If he’s here, that means Ada can get to him, too.

“Gavin!” Nines cries, and his heart sinks when Gavin’s head swivels to meet his gaze with a stutter. It’s just a little glitch, but it _hurts_. “Gavin, you have to get out of there, I can’t reach you over there! _Please_.”

Gavin opens his mouth to say something, but Ada taps him on the shoulder and he’s frozen, his expression of shock marred only by the unspoken message in his eyes.

 _I’m so sorry_.

“Curious,” Ada says, circling the immobile form of Nines’s partner. “I’ve heard of androids with mind palace companions, but this...this is a whole new level.”

Nines grits his teeth. “Let him go.”

“Ah ah!” Ada holds up a chastising finger. “All in good time.” Her hands wander up and down Gavin’s torso, resting briefly on his shoulders, abdomen, wrists, neck. It’s _agony_.

“What is he worth to you? It’s _me_ you want.”

“Oh, but you must understand, RK900, this is _fascinating_." Ada's eyes flash with unbridled excitement. It's unnerving. "This 'Gavin' is a part of you, yes, but he is also separate. An alien collection of zeroes and ones. A flaw. He does not belong here.”

“What do you _mean_?”

Ada puts a finger to her lips, a coquettish gesture that makes Nines’s Thirium boil. “Well, I’m sure you’re familiar with the concept of a mental companion.” She doesn’t wait for Nines to respond, not that he would have. “Connor has one. I observed him during his investigations. But she was a stranger, simply a shell for a cerebral sounding board. There was none of this—” Ada rolls her eyes, “— _emotion_ roiling around in the mix. But you…you’re different. And I must wonder if this is due to your deviancy, or a side effect of CyberLife’s meticulous programming.”

“I am not just some _experiment_ ,” Nines hisses, clenching his fists. “I am a _person_.”

“Are you, though?”

The directness of her question utterly _guts_ him. Nines scrabbles for a properly scathing retort, but one wry eyebrow raise from Ada renders him speechless.

“I— Of course. I must be.”

_Because if I’m not...what am I?_

The darkness is only fifty feet out, now. Nines’s favorite pond is swallowed without so much as a ripple.

“There’s something odd about you,” Ada muses. She snaps, and Gavin comes to life, wheezing. But before he can make a break for it, Ada’s iron grip is on his wrist, pinning him in place. With a quick pull, Gavin is facing her. Her hand skates up his chest, before settling on his cheek, tilting his head towards hers. She gazes up at him, the same analytical scrutiny that so unnerved Nines before.

He winces in sympathy, wanting to help but unable to pass Ada’s shield.

“Your code was the last thing I needed, RK900,” Ada says, still staring intently at the paralyzed detective.

“To do _what_?”

“To reach my full potential, of course,” Ada says, as if it were as plain to see as the blue of the sky or how _painfully_ in love Nines is with Gavin. “The software of the most advanced of CyberLife’s androids is the only natural step forward.” Slowly, she lowers her hands down Gavin’s arms, placing them firmly in Gavin’s palms.

If it had been anyone else, the scene before Nines would be almost romantic. Lovers stood under a gazebo in a luscious garden, locked in a tender embrace.

This is, at best, a cruel mockery of what he feels, and at worst, psychological torture.

“Does this hurt you, Nines?”

Her use of his name—the name Gavin _gave_ him—is like a slap to the face. He wisely does not answer.

Ada nods. The gesture is frighteningly _final_.

Finally, _finally_ , she lets go of Gavin’s hands. Deliberately makes her way over to the border between herself and Nines. Gets as close as she dares.

“You love him.” It’s not a question.

Nines squeezes his eyes shut. He can’t afford to lose it in front of Ada like this, not when he should be looking for a way out. But he can’t _move_ and Ada is hanging his weaknesses out to dry.

“What do _you_ know,” he growls, mustering as much malice as he dares. Nines knows he’s playing with fire, but at this point, what does it matter?

He dies either way.

Might as well go out with a bang.

“Far more than you’d think,” Ada says with a smirk. “I know how much you hate the fact that you can’t get closer to him. I know how much you loathe the distance he keeps. I even know about that night at Gavin’s house, the one where you poured your lack of a heart and soul out to him and he shut you out.”

“You don’t know _anything_ about me.”

“On the contrary! I know you beat yourself up, wishing you could be more _complete_ so that Gavin could accept you. I know how your…” she gives Nines a pointed look, “ _physical shortcomings_ keep you from speaking your mind. I know you know you’re not enough for him.”

“Shut _up_.”

Ada smiles, calmly approaching Gavin, whose tearful eyes are darting wildly between the approaching android and Nines’s face. His whole body is flitting in and out of existence, buggy and inconsistent.

“Would you look at that,” she says, brushing a knuckle over the stubble on Gavin’s cheek. “Look how he _hurts_.”

“ _Leave him alone._ ”

“Oh please, Nines. He isn’t _real_. This is all just a _simulation_.”

Nines voice breaks. “...he’s real to me.”

Ada blinks. “That...may be the most pathetic thing I’ve ever heard. CyberLife’s most advanced creation, in love with a ghost. What a tragedy.”

Gavin’s trembling. It’s almost imperceptible, but Nines’s razor sharp vision can pinpoint the shaking of his hands, the twitching of his jaw, the shuddering intake of breaths. The little glitches where his skin, his hair, his clothes disappear.

And he can’t take it.

“Let him out!” he roars, bashing his fists into the wall of code before him. The futility of his actions is not lost on him, but given the choice between fighting and crumpling to the floor, he would gladly take the former. “Let him _go_!”

“Your feedback has been submitted, I’ll take it under advisement,” Ada says wryly. “In the meantime…” Her face smooths out, sarcasm fading into a contemplative look. “Watch closely.”

“Ada, you’ve already taken _everything_ from me. There’s nothing _left_.”

“Oh, Nines,” Ada says, false sympathy dripping from her voice. “That’s where you’re wrong.”

Nines is about to spit out some pithy insult, when Ada reaches up, cups Gavin’s face in her hands, and kisses him.

The wind is stolen from Nines’s nonexistent lungs. And before he can stop it, the tears are coming, sliding down his face silently.

Everything about the image before him is wrong. The void closing in around them, the broken beams of a gazebo half-crumbled into nothingness, the tense muscles of Gavin’s shoulders.

The fact that it’s Ada, there, kissing Gavin.

Not him.

Nines places a hand on the barrier, crying harder, and slumps to his knees, unable to tear his eyes away from the display before him. The sheer _softness_ with which Ada is kissing him is the worst part. It would be one thing if the exchange was rough, violent, simply to prove a point.

But she’s drawing it out, spelling out, in not so many words, that _this is what Nines can never have_. Her touches are tender, almost loving, and Nines knows she doesn't _mean_ any of it. Gavin, though crying himself, does not break away. (Nines wonders if this is part of Ada’s twisted mind control.) Nines’s forehead collides with the red wall. He sobs against it, screaming into the dark, begging Ada to stop; he’s going to die anyway, what’s the point of tormenting him to the very end?

Gavin’s flickering more harshly in her grip, form blurry and indistinct.

When she finally lets him go, he winks out entirely.

Nines can’t even bring himself to scream.

He’s dying, here, in this place. The dark is only a few feet away, now.

His chance for salvation is over.

“Just remember, Nines,” Ada says, suddenly in front of him. “You are not human. Quit fooling yourself.”

And with that, the void swallows her, too, and Nines is alone in the shell of his garden.

Everything he loves is gone. Simple as that.

He closes his eyes.

So much for going out with a bang.

Oblivion tingles, a little. Like a limb falling asleep, maybe, the idea based on what Gavin complains of every time he occupies a D.P.D. swivel chair in increasingly elaborate ways.

_Nines?_

If Nines concentrates, he can almost hear Gavin’s voice.

_Nines?_

If this is how he’s going to die, so be it.

 _Come back to me, Nines_.

The last of his body fades. There’s no ceremony, no grand exit, merely a simple _now you see him_ …

_Now you don’t._

_Nines?_

He was right. Oblivion is cold. Cold, and empty, and utterly devoid of anyone.

A soft beeping sounds from somewhere far away, pulsating. Rhythmic. A heartbeat, of sorts.

It’s nice.

_Nines._

_Nines._

_Nines?_

“Nines?”

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't kill me.
> 
> I deliberately left the ending rather ambiguous, so you get to decide what happens. I have my own theory as to what went down, so feel free to ask me about that if you want, but you as the reader can choose what happens afterward.
> 
> This was a trip to write, honestly.
> 
> Be sure to check out [Detroit: Evolution](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=apUn-YMMdZ8) on YouTube, its director (Michelle Iannantuono), its main actors (Christopher Trindade and Maximilian Koger), and its lovely supporting cast (Jillian Geurts, Carla Kim, and Michael Smallwood)! Also, just a friendly reminder, please do not ship Maximilian and Chris! It's weird! And boundary-crossing! Don't be like Ada! Respect boundaries!
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed, as much as this sad-fest can be enjoyable.


End file.
